


De Amore

by curiouswhatwldhapn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A Royal Affair Influence, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Will, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recently been watching Galavant, Slow Build, Top Hannibal, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouswhatwldhapn/pseuds/curiouswhatwldhapn
Summary: Medieval AU where Will is a moody Prince waiting for coronation and Hannibal is a knight trying to liberate his people. Planning to update once or twice a week. More descriptions to come as story progresses.





	1. Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback would be greatly appreciated since this is my first fic. Not beta read but would be open to anyone who would like to do so.

There was a faint casting of light on the stone floor when he opened his eyes. He had slept later than planned, but that wasn't a surprise. Will, at least, wasn't surprised. He hadn't been sleeping recently. Things had not been going well at court, and Jack was constantly expressing his concern and frustration over several of Will's choices, or really lack of choices. It was going to be another long day of disagreement with his mentor and Head of Counsel. Damn that one wasn't allowed to be King until the Council approved or the person in question turned twenty-five! It would be two more years before that happened, and Will didn't see a coronation in his future unless he bent to Jack's wishes. Every inch of him wanted to rebel from Jack, wanted to run or somehow overthrow the Counsel. Will knew he wouldn’t. He always bent to Jack's demands. It would be easy and less embarrassing to say that it was all pragmatism since pleasing Jack would ensure the bestowment of his future title. In reality Will viewed Jack as a father figure. The man had guided Will all the years his own father had been busy ruling the country. Pleasing Jack was as much of an emotional need as it shrewdness.

After a few stretches of his arms and torso Will rose as he lifted the covers off himself. He sat in his bed for a moment, leaning to look out the window and see where the sun stood. If it wasn't quite so high in the sky he could possibly lay back down for a few moments. He didn't know why he tortured himself so as he could tell from the sun ray on the floor that it was already late afternoon and his breakfast would be more of a early afternoon meal. No doubt Jack would be annoyed at his sloth but, obviously, not enough to search him out. Will knew from experience that if he was truly needed he would be found.

Then, of course, because this was Will Graham's life, his chamber door burst open and Beverly rushed into the room.

“Ah, you're awake dearest. That's well considering whose looking for you”, stated Beverly.

Will already knew. Jack. He has counted his chickens too soon.

“Tell Zeller and Price it's too early for merry making”, was Will's quick retort. He was in nothing but his breeches but stood up anyway. He and Beverly had known each other since they were children and were more like brother and sister. The possible chemistry that could exist between a man and a woman no longer existed between them. There had been a time when they thought there was a spark but they quickly learned that perhaps a spark was all it was. The moments of fondling in dark corners and vacant fields were far behind them but the residue of that passion has turned to a familial love.

“I'm sorry if my Lord is confused. It is not the court jesters who need your audience, although some do consider your Regent Jack a clown”, Lady Beverly smirked. Will could not help but chuckle. Beverly had always been witty. Their similar sense of humor was perhaps one of the strongest bonds they shared. Will shook his head and walked towards his wardrobe He reached in and grabbed a tunic and pants, which he began to put on. Beverly went to another cabinet to fetch his jerkin and was by his side by the time Will has finished dressing. She helped him slide his arms through the jerkin and smoothed it over his shoulders.

“He doesn't make me laugh.” Will walked over to the mirror to make sure he was presentable. He smoothed his fingers through his hair and decided it was enough but Beverly had other plans. She sat him on a chair and worked her fingers through his scalp, both massaging and grooming his hair into place.

“This isn't funny business, Will. You're stalling and it's hurting your people. They need their King.”

“I know Beverly.”

“I was hoping you didn't or else the actions you are taking are not one of a King but of a glutton, eating up time while the spirit of your people waste away.”

Will's brows furrowed at that comment. Beverly wasn't wrong. The fact that he wasn't taking certain steps towards securing his title were bordering on scandalous. The people had begun to gossip that their future King was no King, possibly no man at all. Will knew what was being said about him. He didn't need Beverly to remind him of his dishonorable actions.

“I know”, Will repeated. “I might find it amusing that you are forgetting your station but currently it is entirely...enraging.”

Beverly's hands stopped at the comment. Will knew he had gone to far. Beverly was an amazing, intelligent person who, although the eldest in her family, would be married off and have no rights because she was a woman. Although Will knew his compassion towards this was inappropriate for him he had read enough philosophy to know that virtue of character should matter more than any physical aspect of a person. He also knew Beverly was educated enough to think the same and that her lack of power was a painful subject.

“I will forget that comment Lord as I know this is a trying time.” Beverly stepped away and headed towards the door. “You are still called for and I have your meal to attend to.”

Will began to say his apologies to Beverly. He knew he had been cruel. She was out the chamber as he turned his head and began to speak, the door closing a bit harder than it should.

 xXx

Will walked down the corridor towards his study. Jack was already waiting, pacing back and forth in the room covered with the tapestries Will's ancestors had collected over hundreds of years. As Will entered Jack brushed his fingers over Will's desk, apparently admiring the handiwork of the artisan. It bothered Will more than it should, that Jack would so freely touch his belongings as if he was entitled to do so. Jack was like a father to him but it was important for Jack to remember his place, that despite their personal relationship Will would be Jack's king.

“Good morrow Regent. How does the day find you?” Will smiled and walked over to the desk. Jack's hand slowly retreated from the desk and he put it, along with the other, behind his back. Jack returned the smile and made a slight sigh, a habit he did whenever he was about to approach a difficult topic. Will already knew what this morning's conversation was going to be about, but decided not to bring it up himself.

“Well, my Lord, it has been a busy morning. Honestly we could have used our King a bit earlier in the morn, but Beverly said you hadn't been sleeping well so I thought best to let you rest.”

Will noticed the slight but decided to let it go. Perhaps it was close to genuine concern for Jack.

“I appreciate it old friend. How is the harvest going in the fiefdoms?”  
“Good. They all expect a greater harvest then last year.”

“That's merry news. And what of our treaties with the Otherlands? Any updates of which I should be made aware?”

“Not currently. I will, of course let you know when there are updates. We are expecting to hear several of the kingdoms in the upcoming week.”

“Well it seems there is no need for me this morning at all. Our major concerns seem to be going well. We are quite blessed.” Will smiled at Jack and began to rummage through papers on his desk, making busy work when they both knew there was nothing present in the documents before them.

Jack frowned. He took a seat in the chair in front of Will's desk.

“Will, you know there are other concerns; one of which we speak daily. I will spare you for a moment as there is another pressing issue but it will be returned to. Do you know of Sir Hannibal Lecter?”

Will looked down at his desk. He hoped he could drag out the conversation long enough that the second half, the half he was dreading would be short. It couldn't be too long until Beverly called him so hopefully Jack's lecture would be brief.

“I have heard the name. His fiefdom is on the border hence he rarely comes to court. Honestly I am displeased with his lack of appearance. I believe when the fiefdom Lords meet he sends his squire in his stead. Unfortunately, he is such as asset on the battlefield my father, and yourself, appear to have given him leniency in this that I may not. What is the concern?” Will's eyes drifted from Jack back to the desk. Jack nodded, secretly proud that his surrogate son was so knowledgeable of his kingdom, especially considering this knowledge of the recluse Hannibal Lecter.

“There have been rumors, my Lord, that Lecter has told his serfs that when he dies the fiefdom will be left to them directly. His Squire will serve as Lord of the manor for the first few years but eventually the land will be split among the serfs and there is talk of an election.”

Will sat back in his chair, a sigh now coming from his lips. Whatever Sir Hannibal was trying to do could not be done, as much as Will might empathize with its sentiment. Vassals answered to the king and the serfs answered to the vassals. That is how his father had run the kingdom and it was the way that the Counsel would want to run the country. It is also how his other vassals would demand the country stay.

“This is quite unusual. Do you have any idea why he thinks this would be acceptable?”

“No. You are correct that we have been lenient with Sir Hannibal, especially considering his victories on the battlefield. His father had quite an unusual style of running his manor, specifically in regards to Hannibal's mother. She was often heavily involved in the decision making of the manor and these decisions did not strictly stick to the typical duties of the lady of the manor. Hannibal has an extremely keen mind, I would even say brilliant so it is not surprising that between his father's unusual philosophy and his education Hannibal would come up with such ridiculous ideas. Perhaps our leniency was too great but those decisions have already been made and we now have to deal with the gravity of this situation.”

Will smirked.

“Why do I have to repair the situation caused by the leniency of yourself and father?”

“Because you are to be King and the Counsel will need to see that you behave as such before they grant you the title.”

Will knew that Jack was right. If Will was king he could perhaps pass this onto Jack and make sure he fixed the problems of his own creation, but as Will was still in need of proving himself refusing to handle such a possibly explosive situation would not work in his favor, if he had any left.

“Fair enough. I think it is imperative that I speak with Sir Hannibal. Can you set up a meeting?”

“Of course but may I make a suggestion.”

“Of course Jack. You are Regent and the Royal Advisor after all.”

“The Joust is next week. Hannibal usually does not come to such festivities but I know that he enjoys the sport, or at least used to when your father ruled. I am honestly surprised you don't remember him from the tournaments. He is quite talented. Why don' t I extend a personal invitation, from yourself and the Counsel, to Hannibal to attend. I can also set up a private dinner where you can casually bring up our concerns?”

Will thought for a moment, rubbing his face to subdue the headache that was beginning to form. It wasn't a terrible plan even if he knew a man as clever as Hannibal was rumored to be would know something was up. He couldn't think of a better course and silently scolded himself for the decision he was making.

“I suppose that will suffice. He won't be able to refuse a meeting with his...future king.” The words were sour on his tongue. He couldn't wait for the day when his decisions would have more weight than those of Jack. “Make the necessary arrangements and let me know his response.”

“I am sure he will accept. It would be treason to refuse you sire.”

“It would be treason to refuse one's king. Tell me Jack, is it considered treason to refuse a prince?”

Jack knew what will was getting at. He smirked although Will could tell there was annoyance mixed with Jack's amusement.

“I will have to check but I am sure it would be considered treason to disobey any member of the royal family. Which bring us to the next...”

“No”, Will replied as he began to stand from his chair. Jack too rose from where he sat.

“Will, this matter needs to be settled. I know that you would prefer to make such a decision after you are King but considering your only kin is Alana beginning a lineage to ensure the future well-being of your country is imperative.” Will tried to walk past Jack but he softly placed his hand upon Will's shoulder. Remembering all the times Jack had done so in the past reminded Will of their bond and the love he had for his mentor. Will paused. “I wish I could allow this discussion to drop but it is out of my control. The Counsel demands it and I'm afraid it is a point that is non-negotiable in regards to your coronation.”

Will laughed softly, wanting to believe Jack's words but finding himself unable.

“You do not voice your opposition strongly in the Council meetings I hear. You are not the only member of the Counsel to whom I speak.”

“I do as my position demands. What is said between us is said between friends but in Counsel I must act as is required from a Regent. To do any less would be to turn my back on God, country, and my king.”

“Always the humble servant but once again I must point out there is no King to whom you can turn your back.” Will shook his head, tired of the conversation and of arguing with Jack. Beverly was right. There needed to be a resolution to this. Will could not concede to agree to a marriage but he could be agreeable to getting to know some of the candidates. It may even be good for his introverted nature and the well-being of his country.

“Fine, Jack. Begin to set up appointments with the candidates. I can't promise you I will agree to any of the matches but I suppose I have been a bit inconsiderate towards some of the ladies at court.”

“No I would say they know you consider them, just that such consideration is their relation to the closest exit you can find.” Jack smiled and put both hands on will's shoulder. “This is merry news. I will tell the Counsel your decision and begin to set up appointments. There are quite some ladies we think would make a suitable match. I think you will be happier with your choice than you realize.”

Will patted Jack on the shoulder and smiled back. Again Will was transported back to the times when things were simpler, when Jack would take him out to the lake near the castle so Will could practice fishing, even though it was more traditional for royalty to prefer hunting and Jack knew nothing about fishing. Jack also had entertained the boy's odd fascination with dogs, which his father had called mutts. Jack had received much criticism from many for folding to Will's request for an eighth dog. Jack had done much for Will and had been patience in his nurturing. Recent concerns, especially those concerning a possible match for Will had pulled them apart but deep down the love between them continued. In the moment Will was grateful for Jack's affection and yielding to this one honestly reasonable demand suddenly seemed like nothing.

“I am so proud of your decision”, Jack said softly. Although Will ate up the affection the comment also snapped him back to reality. There was love in Jack's comment but it also wreaked of manipulation. Will put his head down, breaking their eye contact, and took a step back. Jack continued to beam despite the space that was now between them.

A gurgle from his stomach was the next sound that Will heard and he realized his meeting with Jack had gone longer than he desired. His meal was most likely waiting and his hunger and desire to flee from the discomfort with Jack pulled him.

“Be proud when I make a decision Jack. I have merely agreed to visit the market, not to make any purchases.” With that Will turned and left to see what would be laid out for him.

xXx 

By the time Will returned to his chamber he found that a mid-day meal was set on the table in the sitting area. Beverly knew him well and that eating in the dining hall where there would be more people after a meeting with Jack would not fit Will's mood. He had merely meant to splash some cold water on his face to try to wake up, the grogginess still hovering over him through his meeting with Jack, but he was pleased to see the meal on the table. Beverly was a good woman even when Will didn't show his appreciation as much as he should.

He walks to the table and sits, grabbing the napkin and placing it in his lap. Such manners were not needed in private but one of Will's only memories of his mother was of her placing a napkin on his lap when she fed him his meals. It comforted his mind. The food brightened his mood realizing he was hungrier than he had thought. Simple pleasures always made him feel better, more in control of things. He knew how odd this would sound as his position placed him in control of everything, but Will was never one for hubris. The country might be his in name but in reality there were so many things outside his control, especially of late. The meal pushed these thoughts out of Will's mind and when one of his dogs, Winston, a German Shepard mix, curled up at his feet he was able to forget he was a prince and focus on simply being a man.

A door creaking broke his thoughts and his eyes moved up to the chamber door. Beverly entered carrying a pitcher of wine and a goblet. There was water at the table but Will was grateful for the variety she was bringing. He was more grateful for the opportunity to mend his earlier actions.

“Beverly, I...”

“Before you say anything Will forget it. We have been quarreling like this since we were children. It is nothing new and you have not said anything for which I haven't forgiven you in the past. I know these are trying times and this morning I was equally as trying. Jack was just breathing down my neck despite stating he didn't want to wake you and my frustration had to leak out somewhere. Unfortunately it spilled onto you.” She had set the pitcher on the table along with the goblet and now was picking it back up to pour him some wine. Her skin looked radiant next to medium blue dress she was wearing, her hair half up with the rest tumbling down in long, black curls. It was amazing to him that he didn't love her as courtly love would have him but he somehow knew one does not control with whom one falls in love. Regardless, he was lucky to have her as a friend.

“It's too bad that your father has plans to marry you off to Sir Fredrick. I have just agreed to being seeking candidates for the position of future queen and I feel a possible champion of this contest may be standing in front of me.”

Beverly smiled and put down the pitcher. Her hands reached up and cupped Will's face.

“Ah, so the ever stubborn William Graham has decided to follow the suggestions of his ever faithful mentor. I should say I was shocked but I know your soft spot for the Regent. Despite your bucking on the topic I am surprised it took you this long to agree.”

Will took a last bite and put his feet up on the table, leaning back and patting his lap.

“Come Beverly, are you ignoring my request to make you my wife?” They both chucked as she moved to sit on his lap placing her arms around his neck. They rubbed their noses together as they had when they were children and Will followed this by placing a kiss on her forehead.

“It sounded more like a musing than a request”, came the response. Will loved her smile, the warmth she held within her for him. They were great friends and although there would be more beneficial marriages politically Beverly would be found acceptable by the Counsel. There may be rumors as she had been attending him for years, at first to the dismay of Jack and the royal court, but soon enough his father had put an end to that. Despite the man's toughness he always had a soft spot for Beverly, the daughter of his best friend and most loyal knight. If only her father had been more talented than loyal Beverly might be the top selection for Will's wife.

The two continued to look into each other's eyes and before he knew what was happening Will leaned in and kissed her lips, a chaste kiss but one that landed harsher than he had meant. A sharp intake of air could be heard from Beverly, but not from arousal. He knew he had made another mistake and that his feeling of powerlessness over his situation had gotten the better of him. He pulled away from her and took one of her hands from around his neck and placed it in his.

“I fear I owe you another apology this morning. Maybe I should say a few as it seems likely this is going to be the pattern of our interactions for the day.”

Beverly bit her lip, a nervous habit she had from when she was a child. To some it would appear flirty but Will knew it was her way of stalling from saying something she didn't want to say. Will decided to save her the trouble.

“I will continue, however, with the fact that although I know our love is mild, that we have passed the stage of passion, we are good friends. That is more than many married couples have. There are things that will be awkward for us but I know we could work through them and our children would be bright, strong, and happy. That is so much more than many have.”

Finally Beverly's mouth settled back into a small smile. She ran he fingers through his curls and then ran her hand down to cup the side of his face.

“Will, do you know what happens in passionless marriages? I know you do. Eventually, if there is no love between the people, and not a love of respect but a love of passion, someone comes around that inspires such feelings. Most of the court is spending the nights in beds of one's other than their spouses. That is not a future I want for us. I would be loyal to you, William, I would have to be for the sake of the lineage, but my heart would, I hope, eventually find what it was looking for. I could not betray you like that if I was your wife, not even if I never physically acted on such feelings. I know myself too well to know that I would not be the queen you need. It would be a disaster. The friendship we have would fall apart over the years due to resentment. You are too important to me even for the sake of the kingdom. Now you see my gluttony when it comes to your friendship.”

Will was overtaken by her words. Beverly had always been wise beyond her years and with these words she had once again proven this. She bent her head and put it against Will's forehead. He rocked her for a moment before speaking.

“I know Beverly. I know. I just wanted to pretend for a moment that this wasn't going to be as uncomfortable as it will be for me. I just wanted to pretend for a moment that I still had some control over my own future.”

Beverly said nothing but returned the kiss he had place on her forehead. He continued to rock her with their heads leaning against one another, silent yet once again comfortable again. She allowed him to hold her like this for a few minutes before she broke the silence.

“Speaking of betrothals and marriages, I am to meet with Fredrick soon to tour your gardens. He has not yet seen them. Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Will turned and smiled at her.

“No, you have comforted me much, or at least as a caged man can be comforted.”

Again the brush of fingers through his hair.

“You will be fine, Will. I shall always be at court, Fredrick and I have discussed this. He knows how you are part of my family and it is preferable for him to stay in your favor. It is quite a success for him actually.”

Beverly leaned forwards and pulled herself from Will's lap. She smoothed her gown and placed her long locks behind her back, adjusting the other half to make sure it was still plaited from their lounging.

“Do you think you can promise all of what you said to Chilton? Do you think you can grow to have passion for him and refrain from falling into the arms of another?”

Beverly paused and with her back to him turned her head so he could see the seriousness of her expression.

“I don't know, but I know if I don't it is unlikely I betray my country and my king not including the possibility of beheading for treason.”

Will was stunned.

“Beverly, you know I would never let that happen to you.”

“No, but the Counsel would. Most of all I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for such a betrayal. I would let them have my head.”

With that she was gone.


	2. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds...

“Again!” yelled Hannibal. The young man in front of his was huffing, trying to catch his breath. “You think in an actual fight your opponent's going to wait until you are ready?” The squire didn't say anything, still trying to steady his breath.“Francis, can you hear me?” For a moment it seemed as if the boy night fall over but was able to regain his footing at the last moment.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good”, Hannibal said. He picked up the two handed sword and got back into fighting stance.

“Now... again!” The young man grabbed the sword with both hands and got ready to attack. Hannibal was impressed with Francis's improvement; when the boy had first come to the manor Hannibal wasn't sure he had what it would take to become a knight. To Hannibal's surprise the boy showed some improvement during his first few weeks at the manor. His gain were mostly fueled by his work ethic although Hannibal did notice some natural talent. After a couple of years working as a page Hannibal announced Francis was selected to be his squire, which was quite the honor as he would train directly under Hannibal's watchful eye. Francis certainly knew what an honor it was to serve under the greatest warrior in the country. There were many eager young men who would be happy to take his place.

After preparing himself Francis charged once again. This time the sparring lasted longer, Hannibal blocking Francis's attacks but Francis meeting Hannibal with a number of his own blocks. After several minutes of the exercise Hannibal decided to push Francis's training further. While Francis was still entering his blocking stance Hannibal quickly shifted and sent a blow to Francis's stomach. Although he fell over in pain, Francis was relieved the spar was over. He had kept up with Hannibal but it had taken all of his energy to keep up. Francis knew Hannibal was not even close to fatigue.

Hannibal patted Francis on the back and nodded to Page Randall, who brought over two jugs of water. Hannibal took small sips while Francis gulped from his jug. As Hannibal looked back towards the main house of his manor he saw his adviser, Chiyoh, approaching. Many thought it was odd that Hannibal's closest ally and confidant was a woman. Watching Chiyoh approach Hannibal couldn't help but chuckle. Chiyoh walked with more confidence and purpose than most men of the kingdom. Only a fool would underestimate Chiyoh. Lucky for Hannibal the kingdom was filled with them.

“Good day, my friend”, Hannibal started as Chiyoh finally reached the field. Although a beautiful woman today she was dressed in men's garb; a tunic, breeches, and jerkin cinched at her waist with a belt.

“Good day my Lord”, came the reply.

“Chiyoh, you know how I feel about such titles. We've known each other long enough that surely we are past such formalities?”

Chiyoh smiled and with a nod directed her eyes towards Francis.

“Of course, sir, but there are always reasons to keep decorum.”

Hannibal followed Chiyoh's gaze to look at Francis. He laughed.

“Francis? Please. The boy know how I run my manor. You think it would be a scandal for him to know I let you use my first name?”

“No Hannibal. Nothing with you surprises and I don't think you would care even if your behavior was scandalous.”

Hannibal paused, sighed, and looked up at Chiyoh.

“So what is the business of the day?”

“Usual, sir. Taxes, food, production, shipments to the capital...” Hannibal groaned. Hadn't a shipment recently been sent to the capital? The Knight would swear his tribute to the royal court was greater than any of his fellow vassals because of his refusal to come whenever the royal family called.

“How much do they want?” Hannibal asked.

“The usual.”

“Send them half.”

“But Hannibal...”

“They would get the full amount if they waited until the end of the month for it. Since they want their tribute half a month early, they get half the amount.”  
Chiyoh nodded and wrote down Hannibal's decision in her book. She didn't agree but it wasn't her manor.

“Lower the taxes by twenty-five percent since we need to send our tribute early and, long story short, our food production may be good but we still must demonstrate prudence. Tell the cook more meatless stews for the manor and make sure our people get their alotted amount.”

Chiyoh didn't look up from her book.

“Are you sure, Hannibal? You realize your and your closest companions at the manor will suffer?”

“We will be fine. It's stew, not gruel. We still eat better than our people.” Hannibal looked to Francis who wore a stoic look. He couldn't tell how the man felt about this decision. He was a knight-in-training who needed proper nourishment. Hannibal knew they had all suffered worse during times of war. They could exist half a month on vegetable stew.

“Very good, sir. There is one final item; a marriage request. Mirriam's father is seeking approval for her marriage... to Randall”, Chiyoh finished. 

“Randall?” Hannibal laughed. “What an odd choice for Mirriam!” He smirked in the direction of the page. He loved to poke at the boy.

“Well, sir, the only other option is to have Mirriam married to a young man from another fiefdom. It seems that most of the eligible young men have been married, betrothed, or killed in battle.”

Hannibal looked to Randall, who appeared to be busying himself with a series of chores. He was sure the boy was listening. Mirriam was quite the catch but if Hannibal was honest Randall too had a great deal to offer.

“Chiyoh, it is great pleasure that I approve the marriage of Mirriam to Randall”, Hannibal loudly declared. He turned to Randall, still busy at work, but now with a jovial demeanor. It was good match and would maintain morale at the manor to have a wedding celebration.”

Hannibal could see Francis smiling as ell, grateful that there would be an extra day of trest for him in addition to Sunday. Although Hannibal wasn't a religious man he knew his people were and that it was important to keep up appearance. Hannibal, however, had seen too many things on the battlefield to follow their God.

“Well, Randall”, Hannibal called to the squire. “I think we should go inside and have a celebratory toast, don't you?” Randall put aside the pitchfork he was using and smiled. The four then walked towards the manor, Randall elated for his upcoming marriage, Francis grateful that training for the day was over, and Chiyoh a little dissatisfied with Hannibal's decision regarding the stew.

xXx 

Later that after afternoon Hannibal found himself wandering to his study, grateful for a few moments to himself. He entered the room and headed straight to his desk. He sat down and put his head in his hands, sighing at the thoughts he couldn't push away. The extra tribute didn't bother him much, although he knew sending less than the requested amount would raise a few eyebrows, especially Regent Jack. Hannibal was curious if it would also upset the soon-to-be king? He knew very little of the young man, although boy may be more appropriate considering rumors and reports from the Lecter spies at court. Hannibal had some guesses as to how Prince William would act, but since he wasn't certain he decided to withhold forming a theory. There were too many variables in the situation to know much of anything.

Hannibal opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out his sketching materials. He hasn't had time for sketching recently; most of his time was spent training Francis and working with Chiyoh to manage the manor. Sketching wasn't a priority in his day to day activities, but partaking in the arts was mandatory for the thriving of his soul.

It seemed today that Hannibal's soul may not get the nourishment it needed as there was a knock at the door. He had left specific instructions to not be disturbed so the knock meant one of two possibilities; the visitor came with urgent news, possibly from the castle, or else his visitor was a total fool.

“Come in!” Hannibal called. Chiyoh entered, closing the door behind her.

“It is urgent, Chiyoh?”

“From the royal palace, my lord.” She had an envelope in her hand and placed it on Hannibal's desk. Legal notices or any other official political business came from the palace constantly. It was rare to see the scroll that Chiyoh had in hand. Those seldom came from the palace. Hannibal was intrigued.

“I wonder what they, or should I say Regent Jack, will want this time? They already have taken the food out of our mouths. Maybe they also desire to ensure there is no way for us to eat at all?”

“I doubt that, sir, for how would food be produced for the King if all his serfs starve to death?”

“I am never surprised by what the Monarchy wants from us....Also, remember, we have no King. Only a boy and his Regent who doesn't understand that the well-being of the nobility is contingent on the well-being of those below them. Jack likes to push people until they break.”

Chiyoh handed over the document. With a knife sitting on his desk Hannibal quickly broke the seal on the scroll. His eyes scanned the paper, reading the carefully scribed document.

“A joust”, Hannibal finally stated.

“A joust my Lord?”

Hannibal's eyes lifted from the scroll to meet Chiyoh.

“Yes. Apparently my presence as a guest of honor and featured participant has been requested.”

“Odd. There are often jousts at court through the seasons. We are often sent word but never in the form of an invitation of this importance.”

“They want something.”

Most men would have gotten up and paced the room at the thought that there as something at court that had to do with them. Hannibal leaned back and folded his hands together. He smiled a bit. He was an incredibly clever man and realized the invitation was most likely related to the trouble his absence at court was creating.

“My legacy. They are concerned about what will happen since I have no heir and am not taking any steps to procure one.”

“We've talked about this Hannibal...”

“Yes, we have, and our conversations always end at the same point.”

Chiyoh stood for a moment before daring to speak again.

“I know the memory of family leave a vile taste in your mouth...”

“Chiyoh, I have great respect for you, but the taste in my mouth should be of little concern for you.”

There would be no apology for his comment. Hannibal was reasonable man but Chiyoh should have known better than to bring up Hannibal's family. Chiyoh, for all the love she knew Hannibal had for her, quickly quieted down. She should have known this was a line that even she could not cross.

“Clearly Jack sees a window of opportunity with the departure of the King and the inexperience of the Little Prince. This is the time to ensure that the fiefdoms continue to be run in the way that he sees fit.”

“And how shall we respond?”

“Tell them that I shall attend, with you and Francis, of course. What else are we to do?”

“Of course, Hannibal. I will draft the letter.”

Chiyoh turned and left the room. Hannibal was left in his seat, licking his bottom lip and beginning to formulate his strategy to out maneuver Jack. A meeting alone with the Little Prince. That might work just fine for Hannibal.

 xXx

Hannibal descended down the narrow, dark stone staircase, which would down under the foundation of Lector manor. He held a torch, lighting the others as he walked. The stairwell ended at a landing with a heavy wooden door. It opened with a creak and Hannibal was in a room with six cells. During uprisings and wars the room was filled with prisoners, from vagrants to legendary warriors. Currently, peace had settled over the kingdom and the cells only held one prisoner.

Hannibal swung open the iron cell door and looked at the thin man it contained. The man was bloodied and bruised, covered in lacerations he had created during one of the many torture sessions. Seeing Hannibal, the man put up his hands and began to plead for mercy. Hannibal would give him none. Not for the crime the man had committed.

The man was led back into the center of the room and once again tied to a chair. This chair was a creation all of Hannibal's design. It included a board that held the man's leg straight and in front of him. His prisoner begged for Hannibal to stop.

“While I hate to decline the requests of visitors I am in a tough situation. I promised myself a leg of lamb for dinner. Problem is we couldn't procure one for this evening. However, I still feel like having roast leg so you will stand in for the creature.”

Hannibal had gagged the man. Although he loved to hear the screams it would not be good for his household to find out what he was up to. The man's eyes widened in terror. He screamed but the gag blocked most of the sound. Hannibal was still thrilled to see the look of fear upon his face.

Hannibal had a saw-like tool in hand when he heard a noise from behind one of the cell doors. He would have to kill anyone who was in the room. Although he was greatly admired throughout the kingdom even reverence would not excuse the actions he was about to take. Grabbing the dagger tucked in the back of his belt he quickly walked towards the cell door with one while he prepared to attack his left. The man would have warned whomever was making the noise but was unable to with the gag. Little noises escaped him, but nothing that sounded very difference from his previous pleading.

Hannibal eventually reached the door and swung it open, grabbing the figure behind it. The knife was quickly at the person's throat when a voice squeaked, “Please, Hannibal.” He froze. Hannibal would know that voice anywhere.

“Abigail?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback including constructive criticism is appreciated. Hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments make my day!


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